#and like yeah. the self awareness is simply not there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rqnarok · 4 months ago

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LINGER | 4,3k

old man!logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Being another mutant who survived Charles’ seizures, you are forced to live alongside Logan. The things between you and Logan goes on and off, fragile and indefinite—yet it always lingers.

TAGS AND WARNINGS: smut, mdni! mentions of blood, death, and grief (not logan), lots of angst but lots of fluff too, old man!logan x mutant!reader but unspecified mutation so it’s up to you! minor injuries, nightmares, miscommunication, kind of slow burning (?), pining, logan calls himself ‘old man’ several times, petnames, reader being called ‘kid’ by logan, unrequited love but actually requited (just angst all over…), logan howlett is bad at feelings, love confessions, virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, p with little plot, fingering (f receiving), insecure!reader and insecure!logan, logan loves reader, unprotected p in v.

NOTES: not proofread! bello! ‘m not new to writing but new to writing fan fictions hehe! old man!logan is kinda my everything and this fic is kindaaaa self indulgent. listened to “linger” by the cranberries while writing this :0 feel free to send reqs and feedback to my inbox. this was mere my writing practice and my attempt to gain motivation in life. oh, sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, eng is not my first language! hope this isn’t my first and last fic.. see u all <3 or not....:p

'Shamed what happened back in the East.

A saying you heard but don’t know where. Even who said it. Still, you remember all of it—their cries of death, their pain, their suffering.

A haunting vivid memory in X-Mansion, where all of your friends are lying on the ground, in pain—and you could not do anything. You just watched. In pain, too. There was a thought which you think that it was the end. You were already accepting it with open arms, welcoming your exit.

Then your mutation saved you from your fate. Your survival, at the price of grief.

“You’re doing it again.”

Jolted by his comment, you dart your eyes away from the road and into your lap. “Do what?” You mutter quietly, not sure if he even hears it.

But he always does. “Never mind.” Logan sighs in the damp air. You both know it is better not to talk about what exactly happened back then. Talking is not what you two are best at either. “I asked you a question earlier, you hungry?”

“A little, yeah. Yeah.” Your gaze sways to his driving figure: how his right hand grips the steering wheel way too tightly, how his soft blue shirt is all wrinkled, how his tired eyes look with those heavy eye bags, and the grey hairs all over his untrimmed beard. He looks worn out. But so are you.

The two of you have been doing this for God knows how long. Wandering from one place to the other with Charles in the backseat. Looking for a place to settle but not really looking for it either. It’s simply a suicide travel.

He makes a turn towards a cheap-looking diner on your left.

Northern Mexico.

A place where you both decided to settle indefinitely. Alongside Charles, who lives in the abandoned smelting plant not so far away. Logan takes up a job as a limo driver in El Paso and every time you tell him you don’t want him to be so far away during the daytime, he always says: One of us has to earn the money, kid.

Kid.

To this day, after time living together, you aren’t sure of the nature of the relationship between you and Logan. Companions? Friends? Strangers?

Well, one thing you are sure of is you are not his adopted child and he does not see you in that way, either. He sees you in the same way he sees Charles, as his responsibility.

Before all this, you were aware of him: what he looked like, his mutation, his reputation. But you do not know him personally. You passed him once or twice in the hallways after your studies. That was it.

All of a sudden, he’s all you have. The only other sane mutant you are fully sure, survived Charles’ seizure. Still, you two weren’t friends before and sure aren’t friends now. In this shared house, you and Logan are strangers—forced to live together on the sole base of sentimentality.

Deep down, you know there is something more. Something vulnerable, down there. Something fragile. There are moments like where-

Your thoughts are frozen by the sudden creaking sound of the front door. The sight of Logan all bloody and bruised entered your wandering vision. The book you were reading is now abandoned as you get up from the comfortable sofa.

“W-what happened?” Rushing into him with quick movements, this is not the first time he returns all beaten up but it is still a blow to you every single time. You can’t stand the thought of losing another person in your life, even if you convince yourself that he is a mere stranger.

His white shirt has reds in many parts, and he’s bleeding all over the house, “Some fuckin’ kids tried to mess up with the limo. F-fuck.” With the blood smeared all over his hand, he managed to get into the shared bathroom, his breath coming out short.

“Wait!” You rushed to his figure with an aid kit in your trembling hands. He slouched forward, cursing himself. Gently, you wrap your arms around him before he falls and help him lean his back on the white tiles behind.

He shakily opened the buttons of his shirt and you could see everything. While you grab all you need and start cleaning his wounds, he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes. The intense gaze that always makes you want to shy away from him—you are not so sure why.

After a while, you kneel beside him and break eye contact, “Did you kill them?” you question him carefully as you tread his wounds. Not sure how he would answer tonight.

Logan grunts when you touch one of his nasty wounds, still looking at you, “No. But you should see them.”

You feel uncomfortable at his reply, retreating your hands and facing the mirror, looking down at the sink, “I don’t want to see them, Logan.” At some point, as you search around for more supplies to treat his injuries that still haven’t healed by his mutation, you break down crying. Out of your realisation, you have been holding back your worries and sobs since you saw him.

Logan, who notices this, pulls you abruptly into him and seats you on one of his thighs. “Hey, hey, why y’crying huh? Hm?”

You hate this. You hate how you suddenly cry at the sight of him, at the reminder that this is all finite. His big calloused hand starts rubbing up and down your back, gently shushing you. You hate how he knows you all too well by now.

“I told you to stop doing the job. I-I told you that this… this would happen. I’m always scared. I thought— ” You let out one big sob or whimper, you’re not so sure. Not when he’s cradling you in his arms like this. “You can’t heal like you used to, you can’t barely–”

“Hey, shh, pretty girl,” Pretty girl. You blush at that. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters.” He shushed you oh, so tenderly. Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. Logan forces himself to smile, “Aren’t I? Come on, feel me up.” Logan sits you up straight on his lap.

He always does this. Giving out, you delicately place both of your hands on the sides of his face, feeling him up. He watches you brush around his greying beard while holding your waist in place, drawing circles on your skin. “There ‘ya go. I’m here.”

When you feel calm down and tired, you rest your heavy head on his shoulders, “Maybe I should take a turn going to town–”

He cuts you off while lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes that you were trying so hard to dodge. Without him saying any words, you know he is saying no. Your assumption is confirmed when he shakes his head slightly, looking down at you sternly.

“It’s just me and you, Logan.” You say meekly and defeatedly.

“Exactly. That's why it’s gotta be me, baby.”

Moments later, you continue mending his cuts. And moments after that, you’re both lying together on the bed. Holding each other in slumber. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back.

Through these delicate moments, you know him. That he is not simply a stranger to you. That this means something more.

But he does not talk about those moments. Which makes you feel like your perspective is an illusion that you made by yourself, untrue. A false memory that you created in your head because you do feel something for him.

In the morning, you wake up alone. Logan is nowhere to be seen around the room. Only traces of his scent are left on the white sheets wrapping around your figure.

When you open the bedroom door, there he is. Sitting on the kitchen chair, his slouched back facing you while he sips on his black coffee which he secretly hates. He likes the coffees that you frequently make for him more. You don’t know that. He never told you.

“Logan?” you call out to him. But he didn’t budge away from reading the newspaper. As if you weren’t there at all. As if moments like last night never happened. As if it’s true that you are merely a responsibility to him. A burden, even. You hang your head low at his ignorance and retreat to your room.

Such a paradox could live inside a man like him.

Other moments happened too. One afternoon, his phone suddenly rings while he is out visiting Charles. With all the self-control you have, you try to ignore it, ignore everything that connects to him because it upsets you. But your curiosity gets ahead of your mind and you pick his phone up.

“Hello?” you place the thing on the side of your left ear. No sound, nothing, nada. Before you know it, you feel a presence behind you and Logan is looking down at you with that look again.

Snatching his phone away from you, not so gently, he mutters, “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff, huh?” The way he remarks and the way he looks at you makes you feel small and embarrassed. These are the moments where he is not going to cradle you in his arms–you know that.

Your eyes darted to the floor. The lines on the wood oak floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “I’m- Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. So I thought–”

“You thought? What? You have the right to?” Logan cuts you off before you finish your poor excuse of explanation. “You have your own pile of shit and I have mine. Stay out of my shit. You understand?”

Sometimes there are sparks of rage inside of you that make you gain bits of confidence, “Well, we technically live in the same place, so–”

Though, Logan quickly dims off that spirit by not letting you finish, “Understand?”

You limit yourself to a nod in agreement because you don’t trust your voice. Confusion often fills up your body to the brim. These are the moments you hate. How he treats you differently at one time and another. You hate how he makes you so weak. You hate how he has you wrapped around his fingers. You hate that you don’t have the same effect on him.

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Charles reasons you one time when you visit him for weekly check-ups. “That man has issues! Even after all these years, I still could not fully understand him and his... complexities.” You force your lips to quirk up a little and pretend as if you justify that, too. But you're in so deep.

Weeks after weeks, it went on like that. You, confused. Logan, indifferent all the time. You miss his touches. Was it just a game to him?

Paralyzed, the color red clouded your vision. You see bodies lying everywhere, dead bodies. The room smells like dread. With what is left, your power manages to slow down the pain that rushes in you. Protect you from the incursion.

Here, there is no way to hide. Their cries echo through the halls. Their screams still haunt you.

If you could have saved yourself, you could have saved them too. But you watched them die.

You watched them die.

Inside the dark of your room, you did not realize that you had been thrashing and screaming in your sleep. The nightmare came to you again. Grief shows through in the form of tears, flowing into your cheeks as you open your eyes in fear, “I let them die, I let them die, I let them die–”

“Sweetheart?” a voice comes from outside your room. Near but so far away.

You kept repeating those words until a figure finally came up in front of you, Logan. He calls out your name, “Hey, no, no–” Now he is touching you all over, trying to stop you from moving rapidly and hurting yourself in the process. Sitting you in front of him and making you face him. Closing your eyes for a brief second, your chest heaving up and down, you remember again and you panic, “I-I watched them die–” your voice wavers.

“No, shh, keep those eyes open. You’re okay. I’m here.” His hands hold your face and his thumb brush off some of the hair in your wet cheeks.

“I could’ve saved them. They were dying, they were in pain–” You cry out as the scene on that day played out again. Daunting and haunting you without your consent. Always lingering around on the back of your neck. Only one person knows what it feels like.

Logan’s eyes soften while he remembers that bitter memory too, “So were you,” His voice coaks out, soothing you, “So were you. ‘s not your responsibility.”

At this, you put your arms around his neck and grip him tightly, finally comprehending what is happening. “Calm down, baby. Logan’s here. ‘M not leaving.” He hushed you back to your senses.

After minutes of him comforting you in silence, his eyes dart to your bleeding lips which you bite to stifle your sobs. With much surprise, Logan parts them and caresses them. Looking at them then back at your eyes, then at your lips again. Your foreheads are now touching and you find yourself nose-to-nose to him.

In your chest, your heart beats so loudly that you fear he may actually hear it. Then with that look that he gives you again, every logical thought and pride you were trying to build, collapses inside you, making you putty in his arms. As you always do.

But tonight, something more is happening, “Logan.” You managed to call out his name in a whisper, begging for something. He feels the same way too, “I know, baby. I know.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he starts to kiss each one of your cheeks. He tells himself repeatedly in his mind, “No, not her. Anyone but her, you dipshit. You’ll lose her if you do this.” A belief that he has been telling himself every day.

What you don’t know about Logan, after all this time, is how he is afraid that if he touches you, if he shows you his feelings, you will be gone from this world. If he cares about you, he will lose you. He is in fear that the cruel world will take you away. As it always does to people he cared.

Bad shit happens to people I care about. And he managed to hold onto this thinking and compose himself every time.

Until now.

Your whimpers and pleads get to him–he cannot hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He peppers your face with kisses, everywhere but where you need him the most, your lips. “L-Logan…” you feel your face getting hotter every moment. “Ah, p-please–”, you greedily grind your lower body onto his thighs.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groans while breathing all over your face, “You have no idea what I would do to you, the shit I’d do for you.” One of his hands gets under your nightgown and he succeeds in squeezing your tit. “Ah!” you squeak in surprise and quickly get embarrassed when he chuckles at the noises you make.

When your gaze meets him, the force can no longer be stopped. What you both try to bury deep down, what you two were locking away in a box, is bolting itself abruptly. The thumps of his heart match yours. There is no going back now.

While breaking a promise, he makes a new promise to himself: that he’d protect you before all the bad shit happens. He will not let any of it get to you.

After a brief staring contest and lingering doubts, he loses himself, mutters ‘Fuck this shit’ under his breath, and locks his lips on yours, melting you completely into his embrace. You gasp into his mouth and tighten your hug around him. His tongue finds yours sensually as he cradles your head to deepen the kiss. It was the first time he kissed you.

“It’s just you and me, kid.” He blurted out against your mouth and you could not conceal your smile. Whatever you both were trying to suppress, it’s now roaming free in liberation.

His mouth grins at your reaction and before he can stop himself, he confesses, “‘M sorry for how I acted these days. This old man was so fuckin’ afraid of how things would turn out.”

You were about to say it’s okay but he continues, “But he will try his best from now on. What d’ya think? Hm?” Logan looks over at you hesitantly, afraid of what you’d reply. His ‘confession’ does sound way better in his head, when he practiced beforehand. You didn’t know that, of course.

A giggle went out of your lips, “I think I’d like that.” you say breathlessly before kissing him again.

Our brain is meant to be effective. It is not designed to be right at all times. Well, sometimes we are right, but we experience the wrongs more. What we thought we knew, we don’t. What we thought we didn't know–maybe we do. Especially about another person and their feelings. Similar to what you thought Logan Howlett feels.

Following that night, things had changed between the both of you. The ‘boundaries’ separating you two are torn into pieces, in a good way. Now you are reminded by the nature of your relationship through everything. When he comes back home to you every day, when he puts his arms around you while you are cooking dinner, when he kisses the crown of your head before sleeping, when he fixes your favorite kitchen chair, and many other whens.

Including now, when he kisses you so roughly and gently at the same time, fueled by the desire he kept while he was still stubborn back. Logan hiked up your dress until he could feel your breasts, pinching one nipple. “Missed you– missed you so much today.” He says while kissing down between your chest and your stomach, “Missed this,” somewhere in between. You are not so sure.

“Tell me, did you miss me too, Little Missy?” Logan, who is kneeling before, tilts his head upwards so he can see your face. You cover your blushing face, shying away from him and his question like you are used to, “You know the answer.”

He picks you up from the kitchen with one hand and puts you down on your shared bed, “Oh, you don’t wanna say it?” You shake your head in an attempt to tease him. Lying down on your back and with parted legs, you can feel his rough beard while he kisses your inner thigh. “Aight' then, we may just see it.”

By seeing it, he means ripping your white underwear, the one you adored the most and has a pink ribbon, “Shh. I’ll buy you another one.” Logan quickly says before he can hear your protesting remarks.

“Really liked that one... ah!” The tip of his tongue probes your entrance without much warning, lapping up and down your cunt. “See, baby? You missed me so much. She’s dripping here.”

You feel embarrassed with how he is looking at you down there as if he is inspecting you. Unconsciously, you try to close your legs slightly. Logan does not like this as delivers a soft spank to one of your butt cheeks. “So shy all the time when it’s just your old man.”

Now, his rough hands are gripping each one of your thighs and keeping you in place. His tongue lapped at your pussy—from your hole to your clit, circling and sucking until you can feel his beard slicked up by your juices. Whimpering, your hands desperately pull at his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if he isn’t already eating you up.

He chuckles darkly when you whine pathetically at the movement of his one thick finger entering your wet hole. “Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He huffed and looked up at you with pure animalistic need as his fingers worked your walls, hitting that gummy spot that had you crying.

“Please! P-please—Logan. Want you inside,” This plead makes Logan stop his actions and glance up at you, questioningly. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, but you are sure about this. “‘M ready, pleaseplease…”

Logan has been denying you his cock for who knows how long. All this time, he gets you off by his mouth, thighs, fingers, anything except his cock. He always has an excuse, “You’re not ready for me, baby.” Or “This ain’t about me, kid.” Or “My old bones are too tired today. Next time, yeah?” Each one of them frustrates you.

Your virginity is making him hold himself back. You know this, he knows this. Deep down, he still thinks he is a filthy man who does not fully deserve you and that he is ruining you. He thinks by not penetrating you by his cock, he gains some sense of decency but he really is just unsure. Not about you, no, never. About himself.

But when you look at him with those big eyes while sprawling yourself bare to him, how could he deny you? “Are you sure? Fuck. Can’t hold myself back anymore.” Logan takes off his crumpled white shirt, undoes his belt, and tosses them away, making a clinking sound that echoes through the room. His eyes grew dark with raw desire as he brought down his pants and fists his large cock in his hand. All while looking at you.

“Yes! Please, please, give it to me. ‘Can take it!” You snapped with excitement and lean up, pressed a kiss to a part of his greying beard—the older man grins at your eagerness. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.” Logan lifts both of your legs and puts his mouth on your mound once more, making sure that you’re ready and you haven’t changed your mind.

Between his hunger licks on your pussy and the probes of his thick fingers, he mutters, “I fuckin’ love you.” And that statement itself makes you cry out his name and come all over his fingers and tongue, “L-Logan!”

“Atta girl.” You arch your back in a euphoric state of your orgasm. He could smell you. Every part of you. “So beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

He helps you remove every fabric you had on, your pretty white sundress, your bra, your socks—everything that is separating you and him. Now you and he are completely bare, “All this for your old man, huh?” He mumbles the rhetorical question into the chilly air, his hands ghosting over your perked nipples and pinching them softly, then kisses each one of them. He goes down on you again and kisses your clit one more time.

The sight of him makes your breath caught in your throat. You swallow your spit at the look of greying bread glistening with your cum, at the sight of his thick cock springing against his stomach. “Is my baby ready for me?” You nod your head eagerly at him, assuring him that this is what you want.

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself between your bodies, “Use your big girl words, darlin’” He nudges at your already wet entrance, waiting for your response, taking his time with you.

“‘M ready..! I want this, want you.” You pamper kisses all over his face the same way when he comforts you during your nightmare. His forehead meets yours and he kisses your lips gently as a form of understanding your needs. “Hold on t’me, my sweet girl.”

Then his tip slips inside and you gasp into his mouth, “Good girl. My good girl. You can take it.” You tighten your grip around him as he pushes himself deep inside you, “D-Doing so good, baby. Just a little more,” down to the hilt—his cock bottoms out, “There ya’ go, princess.” Logan coos at your trembling state.

He swallows your moans with a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. “Feel so fuckin’ good. I fuckin’ love you.” There he says it again while he pulls himself all the way out to just the tip, then all the way back in—making you throw your head upwards.

Logan growls and kisses your bare neck, leaving some marks on it but you don’t care, in fact, you want him to. “I love you too, Logan.” You utter those words to him as he rams into you, his thrusts going faster and faster as he loses himself watching you. The friction of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt is addictive, the pleasure makes the older man grunts.

He thrusts harder, his hips slamming into home, the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, alongside your little ah ah ah's .

"Cum for me, baby. Come for your old man." With one final, powerful thrust, he releases inside your tight heat, his warm seed filling you as he curses and lets his head fall onto your embrace.

"Ah!" You shudder as you clench tight around him and milk his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body giving out of control as you experience another release of the night.

Logan lifts his head to scan over the scene before him. He had never seen anything like it and he had seen a lot of shit. Your figure is all fucked out and filled. He didn’t think anything could be more beautiful than what he has right now. And he says it again before bringing his lips into yours, “It’s just you and me.”

You tiredly return his kiss and look at him with a soft smile, “It’s just you and me.”

His meaningless and plain life becomes something again because of you. You are the anchor of his life and his reason not only to stay but to fight and protect.

Logan knows there are things that can be stopped, but then there is love.

He is in so deep too. This time, the both of you willingly let it linger. It’s just you and him.

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reidmania · 4 months ago

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blackfish | spencer reid

summary; being in the early stages of your relationship, spencer has yet to hear your passionate rambles, until you watch a documentary together and the topic of animals in captivity comes up.

warnings; fluff, so much fluff fem!reader, early seasons spencer, marine biology major!reader, start of relationship things, talking about animal abuse, animals in captivity, talks about orca’s and the documentary blackfish (i know the time line is unrealistic use ur imagination please)

an; self indulgent as a marine biology major and someone very passionate about the fact animals should not be used as apart of a circus act. Very very short, and sweet.

Your legs were resting over Spencer’s, the heels of your feet pressing against the side of the couch arm, while his hands massaged the skin of your calf gently, the credits to the documentary you had spent the last hour and a half watching together rolling over the tv. His hands were gentle and hesitate in every one of the movements, a little shy.

“Did you like it?” He asked, turning his head to look at you, thumb pressing against a tender muscle in your calf, the sensation causing a soft sigh of relaxation throughout your body, which contradicted the annoyance that had been filling you as the film went on.

You hummed, unsure of how to answer the question. “It was interesting.” You mumbled out, your head rolling to press against the back of the couch cushions. He smiled slightly as his hands continued to work out the tension in your legs.

“Yeah?” He hummed out. You nodded, interesting was a safe way to describe your feelings on the documentary you had watched. It wasn’t that it was bad, it wasn’t at all. And you had been interested, the entire time. Just the more the details were revealed the sicker the feeling got in your stomach.

He shuffled slightly, “What are you thinking about?” He asked, his hands pausing their massaging movements to instead rub gently over the smoothness of your skin. Obviously he had noticed the slightly sour look on your face and the way your mind seemed elsewhere.

“How horrible the human species are.” You answered honestly although you were aware Spencer was already aware of this fact. He worked to stop all the horrible things the human species did everyday. He witnessed it firsthand.

“Annoyed?” He asked. You nodded.

You shuffled slightly, pulling your legs away from where they had been resting over his thighs to sit up a little straighter, tucking your knees underneath you as your hands came to rest on your thighs.

“I don’t understand how anyone can look at animals in aquariums or even animal’s in zoo’s and think that it’s just.. okay?” You huffed out, annoyance lacing your tone as you spoke, every word coming out just as disgusted as the last. “i mean— These are wild animals and people act so shocked when they act like wild animals. Like that poor orca had been put through hell since the age of two— ripped away from his family and everything he knew, starved, beat up by other orca’s all for what? A quick buck?” You huffed out in frustration.

Spencer hadn’t expected the ramble but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome, your voice was laced with so much passion and intent, every word that left your lips showed how deeply you had thought about this. He had hummed in response, not wanting to interrupt.

“Marine mammals — they are isolated more in captivity than they aren’t which is absolutely insane since every aspect of their being is based on their social and emotional connections— I mean they have a whole part of the brain that human’s don’t have thats dedicated to their emotional bonds. Which means they feel everything probably double the amount that we do” You continued in frustration as your arms came to wrap around your stomach, and irritated pout on your lips.

Spencer raised his eyebrow but nodded, you were right. “They don’t belong in captivity” He agreed simply, you nodded passionately in response to what he had said. He couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face as you rambled, because this had never happened before. Normally you were pretty quiet, not in a way that you were shy or awkward, you just didn’t ramble a lot, not like he did. This was a nice change and he couldn’t help the way his heart swarmed at the sight of you getting all worked up over something you felt passionately for. He would listen to everything you had to say, and a million times more.

“It’s— so gross. Like it genuinely makes me feel sick how they take these animals away from their families and then exploit them for money. Like dolphins — Teach them tricks and then act like it’s just an extension of their natural behaviours — it’s not. You know marine mammals in captivity die way earlier than marine mammals in their natural habitats? Especially Orca’s. Orca’s could live up to 100 or even more and they hardly make it to 30 in captivity.” You huffed out.

“I didn’t know that” He did.

“And Orca’s— Oh my gosh. Each family speaks in their own set of vocalisations, no two families will communicate the same way. They literally have their own languages. And— and people want to throw Orca’s from different pods together in a pool and call them a family? They can’t even communicate with each other, or understand each other at all!! You know that can lead to aggression between Orca’s? Nearly half of Orca’s deaths in captivity is because of a different whale being too aggressive—“ You paused when you finally realised you were rambling.

Your cheeks burnt at the realisation, meeting Spencer’s eyes which were filled with nothing but love and admiration only furthered the burning sensation in your cheeks. “Sorry.” You huffed out sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away” you let out a laugh.

He shook his head instantly, his hand reaching out to rest gently against your knee, “No. Don’t apologise. Keep talking, what were you going to say?” He asked, almost desperately begging you to continue on with your passionate ramble, continued to further discover this side of you.

“I-“ you started but your brain short circuited at the look in his eye, pleading, sweet, gentle, loving, admiring. How could he look at you like that and expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence — you could hardly form a coherent thought. “I- forgot.” You huffed out.

He smiled widely, “Whales being too aggressive which can lead to that frustration being taken out on other whales, especially if they feel challenged or uncomfortable.” He finished for you, making your smile widen.

“You’re so smart” you huffed the compliment as if he wasn’t told it so often. He didn’t mind, it always meant more coming from you.

“Go on, angel. What else do you have for me?”

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la2yn0va · 8 months ago

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Self-aware Honkai Star rail characters opinion on you being a streamer.

Characters: Acheron, Jingliu, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio

————

Acheron

“How… irritating” she said her annoyance overtaking her entire mood and body language. Being forced to be on stage for people SHE didn’t nor about NOR care about.

Why must you make her suffer like this? She loves you, with all her being. But why are you airing her out to the world.. those ‘viewers’ of yours.

And that’s another thing. How do they get to watch you? You shouldn’t make yourself a fool for such unworthy humans. Have they even offered you a thing?

“Ayyy~ thanks for the bits and 20”

….you’d allow them your gaze for a mere 20 credits? (Money) either your benevolence shines brighter, or it’s blinding you.

“Chat what do we think of Acheron? I fuckin’ love this woman, she’s SOOO fuckin’ helpful for grinding and destroying the enemies… white bar health… yeah cause that’s what it’s called…please don’t clip that…”

Acheron could feel herself blushing, so she quickly performs her idle animation, leaning against her sword trying to hide the blush and smile slowly forming on her face.

Chatter—“She’s good, but she keeps taking your attention from us :,(”

Instantly her giddiness is sucked away and locked in a coffin as utter annoyance and disdain grips her with an iron fist “Storm's on the horizon, heading towards you”

“That was perfectly fucking timed… did that sound different to anyone else?” Despite acherons slip up, that hatefulness holds her tighter, refusing to let go.

In short, She loves you-she’s OBSESSED with you. But she WILL kill these ‘viewers’ if they stary your attention away from her one more time.

Jingliu

“What makes THEM so deserving of your gaze?”

Jingliu is similar to Acheron, but tripled. Unlike Acheron, she doesn’t bother to hide her hatred for those viewers.

Chat: Yo (Streamer Name) you should-

Jingliu: Your Ready for death.

She says it like a statement and not a question. She hates these creatures who take your gaze off of her, she hates how a measly 5 credits is enough to get your attention.

Your benevolence is your best quality, but also the one that’s easily manipulated, which simply makes her despise the fact that you’re TOO kind.

Jingliu hates the fact that your a streamer more then her not being able to ‘cut the stars’ with her sword. Why must you test her loyalty like this?

Is this even a test or a punishment for her crimes? Either way, this is too cruel. Being forced in the sidelines for a bunch of people who don’t offer you anything of value.

Is her crit damage/rate not good enough for you? Are her stellar jades not of the highest quality? Perhaps her blade needs more… BLOODSHED.

Unlike Acheron, jingliu would VERY MUCH commit crimes to gain your attention. Like breaking the fourth wall, taking an enemies or allies turn to attack, KILLING her allies so that your attention would be on her completely.

In short, she’s a much more blunt and unrestrained Acheron.

Aventurine

“Such Troublesome detractors…”

Out of everyone in the game, he’s definitely the most laid back about your occupation. Mostly due to his luck.

Course he’s annoyed that some no-named randoms are taking the attention from his god off of him for seconds, but it’s really nothing.

It’s extremely lucky that the characters haven’t killed him out of jealousy (see what I did there?) This fuckin’ Avgin gets the most attention thanks to his kit and luck.

Y/n: Thanks for the Dono-

Aventurine: Eyes on me~

Y/n: Ooo~ yes sir~

Aventurine has a UNIVERSAL shit-eating grin while others are glaring death incarcerated soul-sucking daggers into him.

Aventurine would probably join in on the thanks if a viewer sends you money/bits/cheers n’ shit.

Not much to really say here, he’s just laid back to the whole thing.

Dr. Veritas Ratio

“Stop this nonsense. Immediately”

Dr. Raito fuckin growls anytime everytime you boot up the game, cause he knows 99.9% of the time your going to be joined by those brainless viewers.

He’s completely baffled as to why a being such as yourself would degraded yourself to such… idiocy.

There’s only two possible reasons as to why you’d commit such acts. 1. Your benevolence blinds your logical reasoning, 2. You… enjoy it.

Dr. Ratio’s opinion on the viewers is that their brainless insects, he doesn’t even care enough to be annoyed by them, they’re just THAT low level of importance to him.

Y/n: Hey “Streamer Name” who’s your favorite character?

Dr. Ratio: Do you have answers?

Y/n: I- that was perfectly timed.. DO infact have answers. It’s (anyone that isn’t him)

Dr. Ratio: Fail… Get Out!

(If it is him)

Dr. Ratio: Perfect… Twenty Points.

————

What we thinking about this one chat?

2K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 9 months ago

Text

ROSÉ | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 5.7k

summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together

note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡

side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....

The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head.

Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way.

He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?

You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.

He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.

It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex.

Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past.

He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—

“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.

Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case.

A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it.

You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you.

What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand.

Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym.

Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top.

Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm.

Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream.

Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious.

You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”

Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle.

“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.

Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach.

“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.”

His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can.

He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too.

“Can I have the lollipop, please?”

He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.

One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?”

You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny.

“In my mouth.”

Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth.

“Open.”

You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat.

You do open your mouth for him, however.

He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning.

You pretend you don’t see it.

Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.

“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.”

That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear.

You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake.

“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.”

You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?”

He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?”

It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm.

Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it.

You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down.

Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet.

And then, he drags you to his car.

Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers.

A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing.

He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.”

Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response.

Fuck.

Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?”

You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips.

And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you.

And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken.

It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it.

“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek.

“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.”

You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come.

Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer.

Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last.

He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—

Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm.

You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”

He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?”

“I need to come, please.”

Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?”

Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.”

Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?”

You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with.

Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan.

Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction.

The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss.

“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied.

He grins at you. “I bet.”

Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully.

“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.”

He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?”

“Yes, so bad, please.”

He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe.

To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness.

And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst.

“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.”

He wants more of your taste.

You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds.

“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.”

His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.

Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop.

“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.”

His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed.

Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough.

“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?”

Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.”

“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?”

You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.”

He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream.

Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?”

You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear.

He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.”

Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them.

“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth.

But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms.

Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin.

With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good.

“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.”

And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory.

You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced.

A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you.

An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties.

Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs.

He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him.

Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.”

You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else.

“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.”

You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first.

The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them.

“I love you.”

Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time.

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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pottersfia · 10 months ago

Note

For your Theo fluff - He hates touch, like absolutely does not get touched by anyone ever. His friends know it. Everyone knows - but then you come along and it’s all you do. Hugs, hand holding, legs in lap, all the touchy things. And you have no idea that Theo was ever NOT a touchy person because he never said anything. And then Pansy or Draco tell you how he used to hate being touched, and you’re like ???? Because he never said anything. And then you stop. Like no more hugs, no fiddling with his hands during class, nothing. And then he’s like ???? And then you tell him why and he’s like … I only wanna be touched by you. And it’s just so fluffy and a little hint of sunshine!reader.

You are the best Theo fluff writer😭🔥❤️

theodore nott x sunshine!reader

a/n: sorry i’ve been so busy i’m catching up on requests now!!

theodore very instinctively backed away from blaise's incoming hands. the boy was simply joking around with his friend, but as he lifted his hands to pat his back, super bro-dude of him, Theodore backed away.

"sorry mate." blaise noticed his flinch and laughed. theodore shook his head and gave a small smile to his friend.

"you act like everyone but you has the black plague or something, theo." pansy laughed at the interaction.

"what?" theodore asked.

"you back away from touch so quick." the girl replied.

"yeah, you never let anyone touch you." Draco added.

"i don't think i've ever seen you hug som-"

"theo!" blaise was interrupted by you walking towards the group of slytherins with an unmissable smile on your face. theodore's face visibly lit up as he stood up to greet you. you instantly walked up to him and reached out for a hug which he gladly reciprocated. blaise, draco, and pansy looked at eachother in shock. they knew theodore liked you but for him to display pda so naturally was strange. the two of you had only been dating for a week and before that you seemed to be close already, but the group still never saw this side of the relationship.

"hello to you too, y/n." blaise said, holding back a laugh with a smile. you turned to the group and smiled at them.

"hi guys." despite the two breaking your hug, your arm did not leave his body. "can i sit?" she asked.

"of course, i don't think theo will let you leave anyway." pansy replied making everyone not so discreetly laugh. theodore scowled at them and led you to sit down next to him. you smiled as he placed his arm around you and chatted about your day to him.

the scene was incredible to theodore's slytherin friends. you couldn't keep your hands off him as you sat together and he did not mind at all. you held on to his hands, placed a hand on his thigh, even touched his hair as you spoke to him. all he did was stare and listen to you as you talked, occasionally giving commentary and melting in your touch.

"i'll go get it for you." theodore said as he stood up, responding to something you mentioned you forgot in his room.

"where are you off to?" draco asked.

"getting something for y/n, i'll be back." he replied as he headed to his dorm.

"that boy must really like you." pansy turned to you as soon as he was out of sight. you smiles.

"well i hope so."

“it’s so funny, we were just talking about how much he hates being touched before you came over.” blaise said. you furrowed your eyebrows at his comment.

“he does?” you questioned. they all nodded. you never would have thought that about theodore. you were naturally very touchy with people you cared about and didn’t think theodore had a problem with it because he never said anything. as you thought about it, you did realize that he rarely was as physically affectionate with you in the same way so maybe he didn’t like it?

as the week went on, this thought never left your head. you suddenly became self aware of all your actions around theodore. your hugs were shorter instead of unnecessarily being prolonged, you held his hand instead of clinging onto his arm, and you rarely played with his hair.

theodore did not understand what was going on. he knew something was different as soon as he noticed you hesitating to hug him. he was never one to initiate physical affection so he wasn’t sure how to go about this. his break point was one afternoon in the empty school courtyard when the two of you sat in the grass talking and enjoying each other’s company. you were next to him but did not even attempt to touch him the entire time.

theodore looked down at the hand you were leaning on that was in between the two of you. you were ranting about your divination exam but all he could think of was how much he missed your touch. he looked back up at you and nodded to your words. he moved his hand without looking to touch yours, intending to hold on to it, but you immediately moved it away.

“why are you doing that?” he interrupted you. you stared at him in silence.

“doing what?” you asked.

“you’re not touching me. are you upset with me or something?” he asked. you looked at him in disbelief.

“no. i’m not i just,” you looked down not really knowing what to say.

“just what?” he asked again.

“i thought you didn’t like being touched.” you said. he tilted his head at your words. “it’s your friends, they told me you don’t like being touched by people soon figured i would hold back on it because i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“ragazza dolce (sweet girl),” he placed a hand on your cheek making you look at him. “i only like being touched by you. i miss it so much.” he says.

“really?” you asked. he nodded. you smiled and kissed him, placing your hand on his arm.

“now please give me a hug. yours are the best.” he smiled at you.

“if you insist.” you gave him a hug as he requested, smiling and closing your eyes as you lingered in the feeling.

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott x y/n

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yuujispinkhair · 10 months ago

Text

Bad Boy - Good Toy (Part 2)

His past self would have rolled his eyes at him for running back to you over and over again like some overly eager loser. But Sukuna simply cannot bring himself to give a fuck. Not when you are the only thing that can still make him feel something. The only thing that can still excite him

You can read Part 01 here

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, Sukuna is a brat, edging, cum-feeding, tip-fucking, use of a cockring, reader slaps Sukuna's balls, creampie, smoking cigarettes, mentions of former drug use, squirting, overstimulation, piss (Reader holds Sukuna's dick while he pees + makes him squirt). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna isn't the same guy he was a few weeks ago. His past self would have rolled his eyes at him for running back to you over and over again like some overly eager loser. But he isn't his past self anymore, and this new version of him scans the crowd at every party until his gaze finally finds you. And this Sukuna 2.0 feels his pulse accelerate anytime your eyes meet, and you both smile those matching smiles that are too savage to ever be called sweet.

Finally, Sukuna enjoys those boring parties again. He greets you with a smirk and some teasing insult, and you do the same, and his veins fill with that excited tingle that he's been craving so badly. You lean against the wall next to him and tell him that he is dressed like a slut with the sleeveless shirt he is wearing, and Sukuna lights a cigarette for you without you having to ask him for it, handing it to you with a grin and a cocky reply.

He must be out of his mind, but just seeing your red lipstick marks on the filter of his cigarette makes Sukuna half-hard. It makes him imagine your lips wrapped around his cock, makes him imagine his dick and balls covered in your red lipstick marks. Sukuna wonders what he must do to ever get you to suck his dick. He low-key fears the answer. Fears it because he suspects that no matter how degrading it would be, he would do anything you ask of him. Maybe the fact that it is degrading is what makes him crave it.

Maybe that should worry him. But Sukuna simply cannot bring himself to give a fuck. Not when you are the only thing that can still make him feel something. The only thing that can still excite him.

You smoke the cigarette with him, and afterward, you drag him to a bedroom and use him for your own pleasure. Use his mouth, use his cock while calling him a slut and your cute fucktoy, and Sukuna feels like blackening out from how hard he cums. He busts fat load after load over himself while you laugh and mock him for it and tell him how pathetic he is. And he feels alive.

Sukuna knows that approaching you in bright daylight on campus after all the things he let you do to him should probably feel weird. Any sane guy would be ashamed and walk the other way when he spots you from afar.

Not Sukuna, though.

Just two days ago, you slapped his balls while teasing his cock with your fingertips, called him a dirty slut and a useless brat, and made him curse and cry out and nut all over himself when you teased and slapped him to a fucking messy orgasm.

And you laughed and called him your messy, pretty fuckdoll and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the cum-stained tip of his softening cock. The noise he made was so pathetic that Sukuna shudders when remembering it. But the moment you left, Sukuna pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of his cock, and he has jacked off five times already to the image of your red lipstick mark on his tip.

So, yeah, Sukuna assumes he should at least have the decency to blush when he walks up to you in the middle of a busy hallway. But he doesn't. Maybe he is a masochist like that, or maybe he simply is beyond caring.

You are pulling another package of that stupid strawberry bubble gum out of the vending machine as if you are the most angelic and innocent good girl. But Sukuna knows you aren't, and it drives him insane.

Just like it drives him insane that you have him wrapped around your little finger. But he can't help it. He wants to grin like an idiot because it feels so good to feel that excited buzz in his body when he looks at you. He is addicted to you. As if you are a special drug that was designed only for him. The only drug that can give him the high he so desperately craves.

He leans casually against the vending machine, smirking down at you. And you smile at him all devilish, look up at him, and blow a pastel pink bubble that smells much too sweet. The bubble pops, leaving a mess of sticky pink gum all over your lips, and Sukuna leans closer with a cat-like smirk and his low voice raspy and teasing,

"Look at you, princess. Such a messy girl, too, huh?"

You grin at him, taking a step closer, making your breasts brush lightly against him, and then you are suddenly on your tiptoes, and you are kissing him, and Sukuna's eyes fly wide open.

The moment is over too fast. Sukuna can barely treasure the feeling of your sticky lips and the warmth of your tongue as you shove the bubble gum into his mouth before you already pull away again.

You look at him with a knowing, mean little smirk.

"We both know who the real mess is, Sukuna, baby."

You reach up to cup his jaw and pat his tattooed cheek, adding in a fake sweet voice,

"Now be a good boy and chew it while you are in class. And while you do that, think about how I slapped your balls until you nutted everywhere and how cute you sounded during it. My messy boy."

Sukuna sits in class a while later and chews the gum that was in your mouth only a few minutes ago. He blows big fat pastel pink bubbles the same color as his hair while thinking about that short moment when your lips moved against his and your tongue was in his mouth, and he feels like groaning and burying his face in his hands. What the fuck is wrong with him?

It's another Saturday, another boring party that makes Sukuna want to burn down the whole dorm just to feel something.

He is sitting on the kitchen counter, downing a vodka shot while listening half-heartedly to his brother's excited chatter. Something about a new movie, or was it a manga? Sukuna has no idea. His gaze keeps straying through the crowd, searching for the cause of his sleepless nights and ruined, cum-stained sheets.

Finally, he sees you, and adrenaline instantly pumps through his veins. Excited pleasure pools in his groin and sizzles on his skin when he asks himself what degrading thing you will do to him today.

You disappear in the crowd again, and Sukuna decides to at least wait half an hour before he comes running after you like a puppy. He claps his brother on the shoulder and tells him to go find a pretty girl to fuck before they go home, pushes himself off the kitchen counter, and slowly strolls towards the door leading to the small backyard.

He smokes a cigarette while looking at the night sky and listening to the muffled sounds of the party, thinking how all of this bores him to death. Everything except a mean girl with a liking for strawberry bubble gum and his cigarettes.

Sukuna laughs under his breath and flicks the cigarette bud into some withered rose bush. Normally, he would never run after a girl. But damn, it feels so good to run after you. This role reversal is the most delicious thing that has happened to him since he started college.

He decides it's been long enough. He'll take a quick piss while he's out here anyway, and then he will go back inside and look for you. And when he finds you, he will offer you his cigarette and say something to rile you up, hoping you will punish him for it and chase his boredom away.

He unzips his pants and pulls out his dick, about to start peeing, when a familiar voice speaks up behind him.

"What are you doing out here, slut?"

An amused huff escapes Sukuna's lips, and he looks over his broad shoulder at the dimly lit porch, where you stand and look at him with that dangerous smile on your face. Sukuna isn't a fool. He knows this doesn't mean you are suddenly running after him. You are here to do something nasty to him, and it makes his chest fill with that electric anticipation that makes his head spin.

He gives you a playful glare, feeling the corners of his lips twitch when he asks,

"Geez. Can a guy take a piss in peace, or is that too much to ask?"

You cross your arms in front of your breasts and give him an exasperated look as if he said something dumb.

"Well, no. You can't take a piss in peace, Sukuna. Because you belong to me. Little fucktoys don't get to touch their cocks without my permission. I thought you knew that, you stupid boy."

You start walking toward him, and Sukuna's heart is hammering in his chest. His hand is still wrapped around his dick, not even having time to piss yet, when you stop behind him. Your arms sneak around his waist, hugging him, and Sukuna feels his breathing become heavier.

He can hear the sadistic joy in your voice when you tell him,

"Alright, you can do it now. I allow it."

A strangled-sounding noise reverberates in the back of Sukuna's throat. He wants to laugh. Is he seriously getting flustered like some loser just because you are standing behind him while he is about to piss? Fucking pathetic!

You chuckle, and your voice is dripping with cruel amusement,

"Come on, don't act shy now, baby. Go on, pee. Or do you need help? Does my pathetic little fuckdoll need his cock held while peeing?"

Sukuna's eyelids flutter, and a groan falls from his lips. Your small body is pressing against his back, one of your hands wanders from his waist to his hips, fingertips tracing his v-line for a second, and then your small hand brushes over his that's holding his dick.

Sukuna pulls his hand away, heart beating to his throat. And your small, warm hand wraps around his heavy, flaccid cock, holding it gently. Your lips are brushing against Sukuna's back, feeling warm even through his t-shirt,

"Do it, Kuna. Piss for me, baby. Make it nice and good for me. Can you do that? Can you let me feel how your pretty dick pees?"

He moans even as he lets himself go and starts peeing, his blood rushing loudly in his ears at the feel of your hand on his cock, holding it for him while he relieves his pressure,

"Such a good boy."

The growl Sukuna makes in the back of his throat is fucking embarrassing, but damn, he doesn't give a fuck. He would let the whole party watch how he gets his dick held while he pisses, if it means you will praise him for it.

You stroke him slowly as if milking his cock off his piss, and Sukuna curses under his breath, feeling himself grow hard in your small hand.

"Aww, does this excite you? Are you getting hard from having your dick held? You are so cute, Sukuna. Such a secret romantic, hm? Little, needy slut."

But you don't stop. You just keep rubbing Sukuna's cock, stroking him to a mind-blowing orgasm that makes him shoot his cum and some more piss all over the grass in hot sticky ropes.

You stroke it all out of him and keep going even after his orgasm has ebbed off, forcing him to give you another one. And Sukuna lets you. He just stands there while you pump his cock in your fist and whisper to him how dirty he is for liking this and laugh when he squirts all over the grass, messy and hot with his piss steaming in the cool night air.

You make him cum and squirt until his dick is flushed red and overly sensitive and twitches hotly in your small hand. And all the while, you rest your face against Sukuna's back and kiss him through his t-shirt, murmuring how nasty he is, how fucking dirty. And Sukuna groans into the night as his muscular thighs shake and another milky spurt of his cum drizzles down, making a mess all over his new leather boots.

Afterward, you laugh and bring your hand to your lips, looking at Sukuna as you lick his cum off your fingers, and somehow his chest feels so weird when he sees your tongue scoop up his thick milky cum, even while he sneers at you and drawls,

"Now look at you, princess. All nice and sweet, eating my cum like a good girl. Finally learned your place, huh?"

But you just giggle as if he made the world's dumbest joke and step up to him, press your body against him while his dick is still hanging out of his pants, pulsing from the overstimulation, and kiss him on the lips, pushing your tongue deep into Sukuna's mouth, feeding him his own cum, making him eat all of it.

Sukuna's eyes widen even as he automatically wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. His own taste melts on his tongue, a mix of sweet and salty, and he growls against your lips like a fucking dog.

You laugh when you pull away, swiping a finger over his lips to catch some stray cum and push it back into his mouth,

"No, you eat it all up, sweetheart. Swallow it all down like a good little slut."

You kiss him again, press your small, soft body against his firm, tall figure, and caress your tongue against his almost tenderly, and Sukuna moans. Your small hands are on the back of his neck, scratching and caressing his undercut, making him tighten his muscular arms around you and pull you even closer against his body while he licks hungrily into your mouth until every last drop of his cum is gone.

You tuck him into his pants afterward, pat his cock through his jeans while smiling that devilish smile at him and telling him that it was cute that he squirted for you.

Sukuna stays in the backyard until Yuuji comes to look for him, smoking several cigarettes and letting the night air cool his flushed skin. Fuck, he hopes that one day you will let him push his cock into your pussy!

His wish gets fulfilled a week later. Well, a bit of it.

Sukuna is on his back on a stranger's bed while the muffled noises of the party drift to his ears through the closed door. And you are sitting on him, naked this time, with your pretty tits jiggling in front of Sukuna's face and your hot cunt drooling over his cock, where he is resting between your slick pussy lips.

"Only the tip, Sukuna."

"I'm not stupid. I heard you the first time you said it."

"Yeah, but I don't know if a brat like you can behave. So I have to say it several times."

Sukuna huffs at your snide words, but it turns into a groan when you grab his cock and slowly sink down on him excruciatingly slow. He smirks when he hears the gasp falling from your lips and sees your eyes cross when his fat mushroom head stretches your tight hole open. Fuck, he is proud of his long and thick dick all the time, but especially tonight. Especially when it is you who goes crazy on his fat cock.

You fuck yourself on his thick tip, using him for your own pleasure, moaning from lust as you tease yourself on Sukuna's velvety mushroom head. Your tits press against Sukuna's tattooed face, and he cups them with his hands and closes his warm mouth around your nipples, and teases them with his tongue piercing, making you moan softly.

Sukuna's hips buck, a low groan falling from his lips as his cock pushes further into your tight, hot cunt.

"Come on, princess. Just sit down on me. Just sit on my cock completely. Just use me!"

He sounds like a stranger to his own ears, too breathless, too needy. Begging like some pathetic virgin. And you just chuckle cruelly and yank on his hair.

"Damn it, Sukuna. I told you just the tip. Stop acting like a bitch in heat, you little slut."

You stop moving, and Sukuna stares up at you, horrified for a moment that you will get up and grab your clothes and leave him this riled up and horny. He is about to actually beg when you roll off him. But to his relief, you just lie down next to him and spread your legs, beckoning him over with a finger.

"Come here. Show me you can be a good fucktoy. Make me cum only with your tip. Show me that you know how to be a good boy."

This is fucking torture! Sukuna's pulse is racing, and his cock is leaking angrily all over himself as he stares at your spread legs, at your slicked-up cunt with the cute, puffy clit. Fuck, he imagines he can even smell you. Can smell your pussy's sweet aroused scent, your horniness, your desire for him.

It takes everything in Sukuna to hold back, but he wants to prove himself to you and wants to show you that he can be good. That he isn't some weak little loser who doesn't know how to play a game. All the other guys may lose control, but Sukuna refuses to do so. He will show you that he is the best you ever had! That he is worth your time!

And so Sukuna kneels between your shaking legs and does as you told him, takes his throbbing cock in his tattooed hand and rubs his swollen, leaking cockhead over your clit, before he pushes himself into your tight heat, only fucking you with the tip, pulling out again to rub your stiff clit with it and then tip-fucking you again over and over until your moans become all high-pitched and cute and he feels you tighten around his cockhead.

You cum all over him, pussy grabbing his tip and spasming around it, your juices gushing over him as your body shudders and you tremble violently.

Sukuna growls, tattooed thighs tensing up as his orgasm hits him unexpectedly, his cockhead pulsing his hot seed over your swollen little clit, painting it white.

Sukuna groans loudly at the sight, pumping his cock wildly, making the rest of his cum shoot out in strong heavy spurts over your belly and your gorgeous tits, bathing them in his sticky load.

He is breathing heavily, gaze wandering over the mess he left on your body, and you smile at him with that amused twinkle in your eyes,

"Aww, couldn't keep it in anymore, sweetheart? Did my little slut get too excited? You're always such a messy boy, Sukuna. Come on, clean your mess up with your tongue, baby."

And Sukuna does so with a grin on his face and a racing heartbeat in his chest. Cupping your tits with his large hands, licking them clean, sucking on your nipples while you pet his hair. He basks in the moans falling from your lips. You don't even stop him when he slips his right hand down between your legs and rubs your clit, and then pushes two fingers inside you, fucking you with his middle finger and ring finger until you cum on them, mewling loudly as you shudder beneath him.

He rubs your clit again afterward, slow and tender caresses, rubbing your whole orgasm out of you while you twitch in his arms and moan his name so sweetly. Sukuna feels so proud.

You pull him into a kiss, a real one, pushing your tongue into Sukuna's mouth, licking and caressing him while he still rubs your clit tenderly. He feels you shudder in his arms and swallows your moans with his tongue when you twitch against his fingers and soak them with your creamy arousal.

Tonight you don't get up and leave, but stay in Sukuna's arms for a whole hour, sharing a cigarette with him and snuggling against him and kissing him while his thigh is between your legs, pressed snuggly to your hot wet cunt, smearing your sweet juices all over his thigh tattoos.

You bite his bottom lip and give him a hickey right under his ear as if you are marking your territory, and Sukuna feels his pulse flutter. And it gets even worse when you whisper to him in a voice that leaves no room for doubt,

"You're not gonna put your dick into anyone else, Sukuna. You're only my little slut, you know that, right?"

And Sukuna nods and grabs your chin to shove his tongue into your mouth again, letting you suck on his tongue, piercing and tease his cockhead with only one fingertip until he pulses his sticky cum all over his abs once again.

You're standing next to Sukuna at another party at one of his brother's friend's dorm. You are both leaning against the living room wall, sharing a cigarette while watching the small crowd on the makeshift dancefloor make fools of themselves. The cigarette wanders from Sukuna's hand to yours and back again, sending that fucking nice electric feeling through him anytime your small fingers caress against his.

But you're in a foul mood tonight, Sukuna can tell.

It bugs him. He wants to kiss you right here to make you feel better, wants to push you up against the wall and shove his tongue into your mouth until you moan against his lips. He knows that afterward, you would tell him he is a needy slut for kissing you like that, but he wouldn't mind because, yeah, he is a needy slut when it comes to you.

But he doesn't do it. Instead, he just raises an eyebrow and smirks at you,

"Stop being so grumpy. It really ruins my fucking mood."

You give him a tired look and steal the cigarette from his lips.

"Shut up, brat."

Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he leans down, grinning as he licks a wet stripe up your neck and then murmurs into your ear,

"Let me fuck it all out of you, princess. My dick is the best cure. Let me give you a nice fat creampie. That will heal you."

You roll your pretty eyes and huff.

"Oh, don't be silly. You want to cum inside, baby? Then show me you deserve it."

"How?"

The smile that forms on your face is the kind that should send him running, but instead, Sukuna leans closer, brushing his lips over yours, his heart hammering in his chest, making him feel lightheaded.

You pull away, tilting your head to look deeply into his eyes.

"You like tattoos, don't you, Sukuna?"

Your fingers trail slowly over his biceps, tracing the tattooed black rings on them while you grin up at him like he stumbled into Alice's fucking Wonderland and you are the Cheshire Cat. You lean closer, your tits brushing against Sukuna's arm and your breath hot on his skin when you whisper in his ear in a voice sweet like honey,

"Get my name tatted on you. Prove to me that you know your place. That you know who you belong to."

Sukuna leaves the party feeling dizzy.

He smokes cigarette after cigarette on his way home while his head is spinning. He knows this is a bad idea. He knows he should stop playing this stupid game the two of you are playing, but damn, how is he supposed to stop when it feels so fucking good?

This is a challenge, and maybe you think he will be scared off. Hell, every sane person would tell you that you are crazy! Every sane person would say no. But the thing is, Sukuna isn't like anyone else. He isn't like those little, scared boys. He will show you! Will show you that he is worth your time, that he is worth your pussy! That he isn't one of those fucking losers who back down!

He smirks maniacally as he lets the empty cigarette package fall to the ground and kicks it across the rainy street.

You dared him, and he is not going to puss out. He is Sukuna! He doesn't lose! He doesn't back down! You want to play games? Well, he can play too, and the thing is, Sukuna always plays to fucking win!

He comes back to you a week later, grinning like a madman, when he lifts up his t-shirt to show you the small tattoo of your name on his abs.

You lift your head to smile at him, that dangerous smile that screams trouble, and yet Sukuna also sees some real emotion in it. You approve of what he did. You are proud of him. You are happy. It makes him so hard that his cock aches from pressing so much against his tight black jeans.

You chuckle softly as you lean closer,

"You really did it, huh? Are you really that desperate for me, Kuna? So cute."

Sukuna's lips twitch, and he rolls his eyes, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette.

"Don't act like seeing your name on my skin doesn't make you cream your little panties. You want me so bad, that you wanted me to get a tattoo for you, sweetheart. So who is more desperate, huh?"

"Oh, that's easy, baby. Always you, my pretty doll. I only see one idiot who got the other's name tattooed onto himself. And it's not me."

You grin at Sukuna and grab his chin, pressing his cheeks together, making him blow the cigarette smoke out and into your face. There's a fluttery feeling in his stomach when you press your lips against his, capturing the smoke with your mouth, kissing him, and inhaling the smoke he just exhaled.

You pull away again, and you smile at him, all sweet and dangerous,

"Ok."

Sukuna cocks his head and raises an eyebrow at you,

"Ok, what?"

"I'll let you finish inside me."

Sukuna feels a huge grin spread over his face, and his large hands land on your waist, but you shake your head,

"Not now. Next week."

Your eyes sparkle in that way that Sukuna knows means trouble as you get on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear,

"And I forbid you to jack off until then. Save it all up for me. A big fat nut for my pussy."

You press a kiss onto his neck, far too gentle for the nasty thing you just murmured in his ear, and Sukuna groans out loud.

Sukuna is in heaven and in hell at the same time.

You are on his bed. Not some stranger's bed at some shitty party in a dorm that he wants to set on fire. No, tonight you are in Sukuna's bed.

You're under him, your legs wrapped around his hips, your hands on his ass, your fingernails digging deeply into his taut muscles, your head thrown back on Sukuna's pillow, your mouth opening in loud moans and delirious mewls.

Sukuna feels so fucking proud. Fuck, of course, he knows he is good in bed. He is the best fuck anyone can ever wish for! He has been told so by countless girls. But this here, this is better than anything else! Seeing you like that, seeing you enjoying his cock like that, is a special flavor or euphoria. It makes him feel high. It makes his veins sizzle with arousal. It makes his balls so fucking taut.

And that's the fucking hellish part of this. Sukuna feels like busting the fattest nut ever after saving it all up for a whole week just like you told him to, but now he's shooting blanks because you decided to torture him even more.

He should have known. He should have known that you would come up with something cruel again. You smiled like such a pretty little devil at him when you walked into his room, kissed him with tongue, and then sat on his bed and pulled that cockring out of your bag.

You slid it onto his half-hard dick and stroked him to full horny hardness afterward, a twisted smile on your face while you teased him with little kisses on his swollen tip, smearing your red lipstick all over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane while cooing at him how cute he was like that.

"You are such a pretty boy, Sukuna. Really looking like such a doll for me. That's what you were made for, hm? Being a pretty little fucktoy that I can use any way I want."

And then you made him fuck you with the cockring on. Such a fucking farce! Of course, Sukuna complained. Of course, he bared his teeth and glared at you, hissed at you all desperate and pissed off and dizzy with arousal,

"You told me I can nut in you! What the fuck?"

But of course, he still grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. Of course, he pushed his throbbing cock into your deliciously wet pussy. Of course, he let out a loud growl when he felt your tight hot cunt around his cock. Of course, he rolled his hips against yours, even while you sneered up at him,

"Aww, look how upset you are, baby. So cute. Shut up, toy! Put your pretty cock in me and make me cum on him. Look, I have to make sure my pretty little fuckdoll doesn't cum too soon. You are here for my enjoyment, Sukuna. Don't mix things up. Once you made me happy with your pretty cock, I will let you nut. As a reward for being a good fucktoy."

And fuck, he is making you happy with his cock. You are squealing his name when he bucks his hips against you, knowing exactly where to hit to rub your g-spot. Sukuna has already made you cream on his cock two times, soaking his sheets with your squirt.

But all that Sukuna gets are dry orgasms. He is breathing heavily, grunting and growling, shooting blanks into you, his balls aching and his head spinning. He didn't realize it until now, but the wet sobs filling his bedroom are coming from him.

Sukuna never thought he would ever be reduced to this. A sobbing horny mess with aching balls and a throbbing cock that's so fucking useless, unable to cum for real, unable to offer him any relief. But fuck, it feels so good. It makes his pulse race, makes his every fiber feel so fucking alive, and he wouldn't want it any other way. No one else can give him that mix of pain and pleasure that you do. No one else can drive him crazy like you do.

He moans loudly, letting it all out as his bed hits the wall, and you tighten around him again, screaming incoherently as you cum on his cock again.

Your eyes open, and you look up at him, a dazed look in your eyes, fucked to heaven on Sukuna's cock, a little contented smile playing around your lips.

You grab Sukuna's sweaty hair and pull him into a kiss. Whisper against his lips, kiss the tears off his face that he realizes, to his utter horror, ran down his tattooed cheeks, and coo at him,

"Look how cute you can be, Sukuna. Look how good a bad boy like you can be. Such a perfect little fuckdoll. So pretty and obedient. God, you made me so happy with your pretty dick."

You laugh, sounding exhilarated. Your small hands run down Sukuna's buff pecs and his abs, making him shudder. You don't stop until your hand reaches the fresh tattoo on his abs, tracing your name on his firm muscles with your fingertips.

"You can cum inside me now. You earned it."

And Sukuna sobs with relief.

He pulls out of you and sits back on his knees, groaning at the loss of your tight wet cunt around him. But you finally take the cockring off his swollen cock.

You wrap your hand around him, rubbing him slowly, making him growl because he is scared he will explode all over your hand, begging you to please, please let him push back inside you. A desperate mess, with tears running down his tattooed cheeks.

A low, desperate moan escapes his lips when you finally tell him,

"Now, push your pretty cock back inside, baby. You can finish inside. Nut it all into me."

And Sukuna pushes you down and rams his aching hard dick deep into you, making both of you hiss.

You stroke his full balls while Sukuna ruts needily into you like an animal in a fucking rut. He's mounting you with deep, rough thrusts, grunting and moaning, feeling like he is high. Fucking you so hard that your tits bounce wildly, and you moan those breathless moans that drive him insane.

But Sukuna is louder than you. Moaning it all out, probably making his brother curse him on the other side of the wall, but fuck, he is in fucking heaven, and he doesn't want to hold back.

His balls tighten, and Sukuna cries out brokenly, eyes pressing shut as stars explode behind his closed eyelids, and he shudders violently on top of you. Nutting so hard and long that he almost blacks out.

And you are kneading his muscular ass firmly with one hand while the other caresses his heavy balls, massaging them, making him growl while you moan and tighten around his cock again,

"Come on, little fucktoy, give me everything! All that fat nasty nut so deep inside me."

Your words get slurred at the end as your pussy clenches wildly around him, and you squeal again in horny joy, milking Sukuna's cock empty with your wild orgasm while Sukuna moans and whimpers and snaps his hips against you, fucking you deep and nasty and spurting his whole orgasm into your already overflowing pussy.

He can't stop fucking into you, making his milky cum ooze out between his cock and your cunt, making it trickle messily onto his bedsheets until you are lying in a small messy puddle of it.

Sukuna slumps on top of you with a low, satisfied groan. He can feel your small hands running up and down his broad back. Your legs are still wrapped tightly around his waist as if you never want to let go of him again, keeping him right here between your legs, his dick buried balls deep in your hot, creamy and cum-filled cunt.

You chuckle and pet his hair and whisper in his ear,

"You fucked me so good, baby. And your cum feels so nice and warm inside me, do you know that? You're such a bad boy but also such a good toy, huh, Sukuna? Such a cute little fucktoy only for me. Do you want to stay like that for a while? With your pretty dick deep in me?"

Sukuna can feel your mocking little smile against his ear as his hips buck against you again involuntarily, and a needy, wet noise falls from his lips as he tells you that, yes, he wants that. You only make him say "please" once before you grab his chin and kiss him while you squeeze your cunt around him, and Sukuna thinks he might actually be in love.

I MIGHT BE IN LOVE TOO AAHHAHAAAH ;) Thank you so much for all the nice/horny feedback on Part 01!! I hope you enjoyed Part 02 too 💗💗

This AU was SO much fun to write! I love fucktoy Sukuna, and I want to be this Reader so bad! She is truly living such an exciting life, and who wouldn't want Sukuna as their personal little fucktoy? ;) I am glad I could experience the feeling through this AU, and I hope you could enjoy it, too!!

Thank you so much for reading 💗💗 Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

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